Chapter 38
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39.
Julian, Duke of Johannes, treated him with exceptional courtesy at first, his demeanor warm and welcoming.
Eustaf, who had been bracing himself against the Duke's notorious reputation, found himself momentarily disarmed.
He harbored a peculiar conviction that all handsome men possessed deplorable personalities.
'After all, my own character is absolutely wretched.'
But Julian shattered that belief.
Julian consistently demonstrated meticulous courtesy, attending to Eustaf's every convenience.
Even when he left the laboratory in complete disarray, he would arrive the next day to find everything immaculately organized.
Unlike his previous days when research consumed him so thoroughly he neglected proper meals, here nutritionally balanced food arrived punctually.
Should he attempt to skip a meal, servants would rush in with such urgency they would practically spoon-feed him.
And the meals themselves were carefully curated—fresh, seasonal vegetables selected to suit his palate.
'Is this paradise?'
Eustaf could scarcely believe the fortune that had found him.
Following Rebecca's suggestion, he had once mentioned to the Duke that he wished to bring in a blood-drinking plant, half-expecting some interference.
"It's no trouble at all."
Julian had simply signed the documents without comment, and days later the plant Eustaf desired arrived via direct shipment.
'Money truly is magnificent.'
Seeing the specimen in such pristine condition, Eustaf resolved to spend the rest of his days in this place.
And yet....
Crash—
It was the morning after he had finally fallen asleep, having tended to the Devil's Claw until dawn.
Julian burst through the door with violent force.
"Now! Do you have time to lounge about sleeping?"
He seized Eustaf by the collar as he slept.
"Two months. Cultivate the Devil's Claw into something usable within two months."
Jolted awake by this sudden calamity, Eustaf screamed upon seeing Julian's golden eyes gleaming with a terrifying intensity.
'Damn it. I should have fled then.'
From that day forward, the Duke visited the laboratory daily.
'Still not ready? Your competence is highly questionable.'
'I see you have time to eat. Perhaps I've been too lenient with you.'
'Do you have a talent for killing plants? How did a sprout that was thriving yesterday wilt like this?'
Julian, Duke of Johannes, was utterly mad. Despite knowing nothing whatsoever about plants, he pestered relentlessly, driving Eustaf to the brink of insanity.
Unable to fathom why his attitude had suddenly shifted so drastically, Eustaf decided he could endure no more and offered his resignation.
"I simply cannot bear this! I'm quitting!"
But Julian tore the resignation letter to shreds before his eyes and laughed wickedly.
"You must be quite wealthy? Do you have any idea how much investment capital has been allocated to your account? If you're confident you can repay all of it, then leave. You should have been more careful with the contract."
Yet Eustaf himself possessed considerable expertise regarding madmen.
"I knew you'd say that. Fine. I'll cultivate the Devil's Claw within one month instead of two."
"Now that's the spirit from the beginning."
"However!"
"Instead?"
Eustaf slammed the enormous file folder down onto the desk with force.
"A comprehensive list of all the abusive language you've hurled at me during this time, Your Grace."
"What?"
Julian flipped through the papers with an expression of utter bewilderment.
Every word he had ever spoken to Eustaf was meticulously organized by date and time, not a single character out of place.
It was a list that radiated an unsettling obsession.
"I would particularly appreciate your attention to the section where you grabbed my collar. That's twenty times total. Twenty!"
"So what, you want me to kneel and apologize?"
"No! What use would I have for an apology I can't even turn into jam? Pay me in coin for each incident instead."
"What...?"
"Given your temperament, Your Grace, it seems you're incapable of refraining from verbal abuse. So if you wish to curse at me, pay for the privilege. Then I'll gladly accept your insults. Ten Bronze per curse! One Silver per collar grab!"
Julian stared at Eustaf as though he were looking at a madman.
But when Eustaf declared he would cultivate the Demon's Claw within a month, Julian reluctantly nodded, his brow furrowed in resignation.
Eustaf laughed with unbridled delight.
"Wahaha! I'll be sitting on a fortune in no time! Please, curse at me more, Your Grace!"
Surprised by how readily Julian had agreed, Eustaf found himself in excellent spirits as he mentally tallied the fortune he would earn.
Yet after that day, Julian never again unleashed his verbal tirades.
Instead, he visited far more frequently, watching Eustaf's every move with relentless scrutiny.
This constant surveillance irritated Eustaf far more than the curses ever had.
"He's too stingy to pay. But regardless, since I succeeded in less than a month, he'll have to settle his debt for all those previous insults."
Eustaf grinned brightly as he mentally calculated the compensation he would receive.
* * *
"The Demon's Claw is ready?"
The moment word reached him, Julian came rushing over at full speed.
Eustaf proudly presented the potted Demon's Claw.
Julian gazed at it in silence for a moment.
Something seemed to weigh heavily on his mind.
He wiped his face and asked anxiously.
"How is it administered?"
"Simply chew a freshly picked leaf. By the way, was that boy who visited our estate the experimental subject? He looked so delicate—I wonder if he can endure the experiment..."
"Don't concern yourself with her."
"Her? You mean that boy was a girl? No wonder she looked so refined."
The moment Rebecca's name came up, Julian's expression darkened visibly. In his discomfort, he even misspoke.
Eustaf seized upon this opening like a hawk and bombarded him with questions.
"But why was she disguised as a boy? She looked every bit a young man back then. And now that I think about it, your sudden urgency... could it be...?"
"Could it be what?"
"A secret lover? A tragic romance that transcends social station...?"
"You're not as clever as you think you are."
"How dare you! Anyone can see my brilliance—everyone in the world except you, Your Grace, recognizes my exceptional talent!"
"Quiet, and take this."
Julian hurled a bundle of gold coins at Eustaf's broad chest as though it were a gag.
Fortunately, it seemed to work—Eustaf immediately became absorbed in counting the coins.
"I keep my promises. I added extra money as a bonus for your trouble. And...."
"Yes, yes. I believe I'm worthy of accepting such compensation, so I'll skip the thanks. And?"
"I'm sorry."
"Pardon?"
Eustaf lifted his head, wondering if he'd misheared something.
Meeting those silver eyes wide with bewilderment, Julian furrowed his brow deeply and spoke.
"Pretend you didn't hear that. My personality is terrible, so I can't speak kindly. Especially when I'm excited. There won't be any more harsh language like that in the future. Well, I can't promise it, but if it does happen again, I'll compensate you with money like today."
Eustaf, who had never heard an apology from a nobleman before, stared blankly at Julian.
"Stop staring!"
Julian, his face flushed and scratching the back of his head, looked rather endearing.
'Perhaps he's a good person despite being crazy....'
But Eustaf quickly abandoned that thought at what Julian said next.
"Well then, we need to get back to work."
"Pardon? Wasn't the research on the Demon's Claw finished?"
"What are you talking about? You have plenty more to research. Next is... yes, Rose Grape would be perfect."
"The variety that the Earl of Devonshire patented?"
"Good that you caught on quickly. Yes, research how to make that grape diseased. The deadline is one week."
Eustaf let out a shriek.
"You must give me rest time! I'm not a machine!"
At his words, Julian chuckled softly.
"I said I'd give you money, not time to spend it. Instead, I'll hire more researchers so you can meet the deadline."
'He's a demon! This man is a demon!'
Imagining horns sprouting above Julian's head as he turned away with a sinister smile, Eustaf trembled violently.
* * *
Rebecca had become unprecedentedly popular at the Mansion.
Wherever she went, the servants flocked around her, chattering away.
"Rebecca, here's freshly made apple juice. Please try it. By the way, my father is thinking of investing in a transportation business—how do you think it will turn out?"
"Rebecca! My child is entering the Academy this time...."
Among those gathered were also the Hounds. Taking advantage of Zeppelin's absence, they cautiously approached Rebecca.
It seemed the rumor that she was a saint with miraculous foresight had spread even among the servants.
Rebecca accepted the refreshments offered by the servants and provided minimal answers based on the future information she knew.
After a barrage of questions ended and she was catching her breath for a moment, she heard whispers from behind.
"But why didn't we know about Rebecca's abilities until now?"
"They said being with the Earl was a trial.... So her abilities only manifest when the Earl isn't by her side."
They seemed to accept that Zeppelin was a trial, nodding their heads quite seriously.
It was true that Zeppelin had rarely been away from Rebecca's side for this long.
Rebecca almost burst out laughing.
My abilities only manifest when Zeppelin is absent.
Robert said he'd seasoned the rumors a bit, but I never expected he'd do something this clever.
Thanks to him, I was spared from having to step forward and explain things myself.
Rebecca didn't need to do anything—everyone else was busy speculating and spreading the word on their own.
The problem arose when this story didn't stay confined within the Mansion and reached the Temple.
Impersonating a saint was a serious matter, and if an investigator were dispatched, it would only be a matter of time before I was exposed.
Then I might face a religious trial for blasphemy.
'But why am I not worried at all?'
Surprised at my own complacency, Rebecca remained untroubled.
Somehow, it felt as though everything would resolve itself naturally.
'Did you forget? Fortune is on my side.'
Recalling Julian's confident words, Rebecca smiled quietly to herself.
'People aren't something you trust, after all.'
In truth, even if I were dragged away for blasphemy, there wasn't a complete absence of escape routes.
Zeppelin would surely come searching for what was taken from him, so there would be plenty of opportunities to flee.
Rebecca hoped that if such a situation arose, it would be Julian, not Zeppelin, who came to her rescue.
* * *
It was late at night, but Rebecca remained awake.
She sat properly at her desk, waiting for a visitor to arrive.
Since rumors of Rebecca being a saint had spread, occasional late-night visitors had been discreetly calling on her room.
Kanna quietly prepared refreshments and placed them before Rebecca. A teacup for the guest sat on the tea table.
Rebecca sipped her tea and murmured softly.
"It's about time."
Knock, knock—
Scarcely had her words finished when a hesitant knock sounded at the door.
The runaway Countess had returned.
E-book publication.
January 12, 2022
Author.
Long Night Sky
Publisher.
Desert Fox
Published by.
Woongjin Thinc Big Co., Ltd.
Submission Intake.
naver.me/54VzzLSn
Blog.
blog.naver.com/wj_fennecfox
Twitter.
@wjt_fennecfox
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org